Disclaimer: Not mine.
A.N: When I first started writing this, I intended for it to be an angsty yet postive Ryro story. I had no idea it would grow to contain any of the other chracters and how they deal with John's return but it's become that. I also didn't plan on all the emphasis on their names, this is all just kind of forming as I go. Please bare with me. Anyway, thanks to everyone who keeps baring with me. Part 4!
There's a blinking red '1' on the answering machine when they come in after their monthly dinner with Bobby and Kitty. It's still an awkward and tense affair, rife with thudding silences and glares, usually in John's direction, but at least he feels comfortable enough to give Kitty a hug when they arrive and Bobby now shakes his hand whenever they leave. And the women have stopped pretending their meetings are an accident, which is something of a victory for both the men.
Marie plops down on the couch and begins the complicated procedure of taking her strapped sandals off while he presses the playback button. The voice that comes over the line surprises her enough to make her stop in her task and his hands still that are removing his dress shirt.
"Hello John, this is...," the voice falters for an instant, like she can't decide which name to give, so she settles for a compromise between the two, "...this is Storm Munroe. I have some things I'd really like to discuss with you, if that's alright. If you could come by the mansion, that would, well, that'd be great. Any time tomorrow, I'll be available. Thank you. Bye...Oh! Tell Rogue I said 'Hi.' Okay...Good bye."
He raises his eyebrows at her and says curiously, "What the hell do you think that's about?"
Marie only shrugs and responds teasingly, "Maybe she wants to offer you a job."
He chuckles a bit before he realizes that maybe she's right, and then he starts to panic.
Ororo meets him at the front door and offers a firm handshake and a fairly believable smile as her welcome. He follows her back to her office, a cozy, corner room done in greens and browns, which he's glad to see isn't the Professor's. He doesn't know how he would handle being in that room again. He remembers the first time he was ever taken there, led by, ironically, Ororo. She probably doesn't remember that though, he decides, how many scared and sad kids, newly dropped off or thrown out, had she taken there over the years? Too many, he thinks, more than her fair share. And now she's the one they're being taken to.
"Thanks for coming, John," she tells him after they've both been seated and he's waved off her offers for tea or coffee.
"It's no problem, really, Ms. Munroe."
"Please, John, call me Storm."
"Can I call you Ororo?"
She grins stiffly, one of the fakest smiles he's ever seen, but as least her answer is honest, "No."
"Then I think I'll just stick to 'Ms. Munroe.' So, Ms. Munroe, let's just, you know, cut to the chase. I know this isn't a social call."
She purses her lips and he knows she wants to say something to the effect that he hasn't changed since he left at all. But she doesn't. She just shuffles some papers around on her desk and swallows.
"Fine. It has come to my attention that you're currently unemployed." He grimaces physically, a reaction to both the fact that it looks like Marie had been right and that such personal information is known by her, and the smug look on her face tells him that she notices.
"Really? And who told you that?"
"A woman never reveals her sources," she whispers jokingly.
"Kitty?" he groans.
"Of course. But don't be mad at her, she's not my spy, she's just a gossip," she reveals with more positive feeling than he thinks she should be allowed.
"And now you're offering me a job?" he asks with no small amount of disbelief.
"In a way. I'm offering the offer."
"I don't know if I'll ever be that strapped for cash." And that's true, that he doesn't know, in the past six years he has never wanted for money.
In the beginning, after the courts released him with nothing but probation and community service, since he was a minor and there was no concrete evidence that he had done any of the Brotherhood's especially dirty work, he couldn't find a job to save his life or fill his belly. After being evicted from his dirty, yellow walled apartment, he became resolute to his fate. He had trudged slowly down to the corner ATM, planning on withdrawing his last $34 and buying a bus ticket to Westchester and to the mansion and to groveling in front of Ms.Ororo Munroe for sanctuary.
But that never happened, because there on his receipt, which he opted to print out of masochism, just to see the $0.00 remainder, was a new balance. Someone had deposited $10,000 into his bank account.
And has proceeded to do so ever since. His balance never falls below $50. He suspects it's Mr.Lensherr, considering his ideals of brotherhood and loyalty would have shamed the Mafia. But it's just as likely that it's Mystique. They shared an odd camaraderie while 'fighting the fight.' A blue, deadly mother figure that taught him control and how to survive and that he did have a place in the world. A place in what was coming. So that even if he couldn't control it, he could participate in it. He thinks about the look of desperate remorse, his silent apology, that he sent her way as he walked out of the prison truck, leaving her there to fend for herself, naked and human, with no more natural defenses. He remembers that moment whenever he sees that more money had been donated to the 'Keep John Allerdyce Alive and No Longer Requiring of a Job Fund,' so he chooses to believe she's the one. That it's a 'thank you' for caring enough to even look back as he walked away. It was more than Eric had spared her.
He thinks of this now and wonders why he feels uncomfortable calling anyone else by they're other names. They're just their mutant names, he knows, but he still just sees them as symbols of the past, of fighting and war and perceiving people as enemies when they should have been banding together. Of his youth and mistakes and arrogance. He wonders why he still calls Mystique that in his head and not Raven. He wonders about a lot of things.
"I figured your answer would be something like that," Ororo replied with a sigh. "But that's not the only thing I wanted to talk to you about. I'm considering asking Rogue, I mean, giving Rogue the same offer, an open invitation to come back here and work. I know she's well versed in medicine; we did give her the scholarship to go to nursing school. And if she accepts, that could create some...complicated situations in your relationship."
He looks up at her with a puzzled expression, unconsciously touching his four fingers to his thumb one by one; simultaneously regretting and grateful that he left his lighter in the car. Ororo just watches him, waiting for him to connect the dots. The atmosphere in the room shifts drastically when he does. If he were to look outside throughthe windows behind her, he would see dark clouds gathering slowly, an unintentional reaction on her part to his sudden change in demeanor.
"We could use your firepower," she says softly, unsure how he'll react.
"That's what I'd be? Your big guns? The traitor brought back into the fold?" he asks in a strangled voice. He eyes burn with forming tears and he scrubs his face with his hand in an effort to be rid of them.
"It wouldn't be like that, John."
He looks up at her sharply. "Then what would it be like, Ororo? I teach Phys. Ed. during the day and at night I go set shit on fire and come home and have my girlfriend patch me up? What the hell?" he shouts with frustration that has no outlet. "What the fucking hell? Who are you even fighting?"
"There's always going to be someone to fight," she says acidly.
He shakes his head wearily. "I can't answer for Marie and I don't assume to know how'd she feel about that kind of an offer but speaking for me, I say no thank you. I'm done choosing sides. When and if there's another war, I'll be here, ok? I'll stand with you if that's what's right. I'll bring back 'Pyro,' " His breath catches in a painful part of his throatand it honestly, truly, physically hurts for him to say it. Like his heart has turned into lead but it's still trying to beat and perform all it's usual functions. Like hislungs have been filled with cotton balls and thorns."But until then I can't...I can't. Okay?"
He stands up before she can respond and reaches out to shake her hand. "Thank you for the offer of an offer, Ms. Munroe. I'm sure we'll be in touch."
He goes home and climbs into bed with her, where she's sprawled reading a gossip rag. He lays his head on her stomach and feels like he's exhaling for the first time in hours as she threads her fingers in his hair.
"So what did Storm want?"
"Oh, you know, she just wanted to chat, catch up, get my apple pie recipe, that kind of stuff."
"John," she says with warning in her tone, her hands stilling in his hair.
He looks up at her and sighs, "Marie, whatever it was, I said 'no.' Whatever she asked, I couldn't do it."
She nods and bites her lip and returns to her magazine. "Good," she tells him.